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My College Students had to Create a Story About Themselves. One Stood Out from the Rest.
Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta Living in Oxford, Mississippi is hard. Especially when you're teaching adults in their early 30s to late 50s English. My childhood wasn't the greatest, but we did get by. I became a professor at the University of Mississippi because I wanted to help these men and women just like how I needed help when I was a kid. On the first assignment, I had the students create a story about themselves and their history. It was more of an examination, to see where they were at in their English writing. When I got the tests back, they were between above average and awful. The last paper I looked at was by the name of Roy Sanders. This confused me. I didn't had a student named Roy in my class. I was sure that some other student turned in their assignment in the wrong class. I normally would just go to the office and have them handle it, but something told me to look over the paper. I decided to read it, and here's the transcribed version: He was sitting in a corner with 30 other students in the classroom. His hand was on his cheek to cover his acne. And his hair was oily, he needed a shower. He was disgusted with himself. He didn’t know why he felt so inferior to the whole class, maybe its true he’s the ugliest of the bunch. Average intelligence. He was cursed with bad luck ever since he was conceived. His parents wanted a girl so they never loved him the way they would have if he was a female. While in class, memories started flooding back into his mind; “You little brat, you’re five years old and you still pee your bed!” His father dragged him from his neck into the kitchen and got a lighter. “I’ll burn your dick off.” His father spat. He was crying, kicking and screaming as his father got the fire of the lighter near his penis. His mother knew that his father was just threatening in order to correct the child’s behavior so she didn’t do anything. Years passed on and he developed hatred for his father. He often fantasized he was smothering him. Roy often avoided looking at mirrors, he hated his reflection. He hated talking to people in bright sunlight because he knew they’d be looking at his face and seeing all the imperfections clearer. Sometimes he believes what he thinks about himself is wrong, and surely someone would see him as beautiful and love him the way he is, a girl who’d make him believe in himself. But after each and every date, he’d go back home feeling even more insecure than ever. So he stopped the dating altogether. “Maybe today’s the day I die.” He says every other morning. Yes, of course he was suicidal. He imagines the way he’d die; maybe it’ll be hanging from the ceiling, but he’d hate to put his mother in such a shock. Then maybe he’d throw himself off a high building, but that’s too much fuss, he didn’t want to bother anyone to clean off his messes. Or just maybe it’d be as easy as a heart attack since heart diseases are known to run in his father’s side of the family. That’s what Roy spent his twenties thinking about in solitude. He isolated himself in his room and wasted precious time daydreaming about what if he was actually living his twenties, having friends and a girlfriend, hitting the clubs... What if some people talked to him with genuine interest? But Roy spent his thirties in a different way, his thoughts drifted very quickly into violence and obsession with pornography. He started following girls around, imagining cutting off their eyes so they wouldn’t see him, then bleeding them out as he unleashes his sexual tension on them. But he knew he’d never harm anyone, these thoughts had progressed so slowly and he can repress them anytime. He worked as a mechanic, it’s the family business and one day a lady, which looked as if she came out of Roy’s dreams, complained that the breaks are squeaking. After changing her breaks, Roy decided to be bold, it’s now or never, he could have a fair lady, after all he was a decent hardworking man, “would you like to grab a bite before you head out?” he asked the lady. But the lady apologized politely and said she can’t stay with him longer due to business reasons. Roy shrugged and moved on. But then she came back for a tire change and Roy tried to ask her out again. Win! She agreed! They went out for dinner, then after many more dinners, Roy asked for her hand in marriage and she agreed! Roy was surprised when he thought of how much a lady like her could love a guy like him. She never left his side, never said anything that made him upset. He found his soul mate and he was the happiest he’d ever been at last! “Now you’ll stay with me forever.” Roy said as he put the ring on his lady’s finger, then he returned the hand back into the fridge. After I read it, I was in shock. Part of me wanted to believe that it was a prank. It was the first few days, and those damn kids sure do like to make these stupid jokes. However, another part of me said otherwise... When I got home, I went straight to the computer and looked up Roy Sanders. According to the news articles, Roy had lived a horrible childhood and looked ugly. Because of the abuse his father did to him, he turned into a insane creep who stalked women and kidnapped them and killed them. He then chopped off their bodies and eat some, then store them in the fridge. The police had counted 12 girls were killed, including Sarah Hills, who was reported mission in 1991 after she married Harold Frodo. He was arrested, but that sick fuck had killed himself before the court gave the victims the justice they deserved. I also found out that he did went to the university in the mid 80s studying accounting, but dropped out after his freshman year. He also attended English class, but one of his classmates in English, Katy Dearson, went missing during his time there.